


The End

by BecauseDawn



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3693953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseDawn/pseuds/BecauseDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An imagined end to an RP where Alim Surana and Jael Mahariel fight the blight together. Things go well for Jael but very poorly for Alim.<br/>Inspired by a prompt by northstarfan (creator of Jael Mahariel) on Tumblr.  You can read more about her Jael Mahariel here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kennel_Boy/works?fandom_id=827055</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kennel_Boy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kennel_Boy/gifts).



“Come home with me,” Jael said to Alim.

The two elves had left the throne room and celebrations to find a quiet space to say their goodbyes. Jael stood in the formal clothes Zevran had managed to force him into and Alim in the Grey Warden robes that had been a gift from the Circle. 

“Really?” Alim snorted, “You know what my answer is.”

The question had been asked before. When this is done with, Jael had always begun. First, when Jael had decided the mage with useful gifts was trustworthy enough to extend an offer to. Next, after they had cleaned out Kinloch Hold and it seemed any roots the mage had were burnt to ashes. The last time had been as they sat around a fire in a Dalish camp and Alim had, for the first time, seemed relaxed in the company of the clan. But his answer had always been no. Polite, sad, regretful in turn but always, no. 

“The Blight is over Alim. Reconsider.” 

But the other elf laughed. “The Archdemon is dead but the Blight…? There are still Darkspawn running around out there that need to be dealt with.” He raised his glass to take a drink but it was empty. Jael wasn’t surprised. Since the battle of Denerim, Alim emptied glasses of alcohol quickly and often. Another reason to make the offer one more time. 

“Orlais is sending wardens,” Jael said, “Experienced wardens who will know how to track the Darkspawn down, not makeshift ones who had to improvise and guess and make due with looted coin.”

Alim looked down into his empty glass but otherwise seemed to be listening. 

“Not makeshift ones who took down an archdemon, “Jael smiled, “and have earned a rest.”

Alim bent over and set his glass on the floor. When he stood up he looked at Jael, his gaze steady, “Alistair suggested I take the position of Warden-Commander. I agreed.”

“No Alim.” It came out sounding like a command and as Alim’s eyes narrowed, Jael regretted his words.

The time when Jael could confront Alim directly and have the mage consider his words was gone, behind a door sealed by Isolde Guerrin’s blood. Now, all it took to solidify Alim’s opposition to anything Jael might say was the wrong word or too forceful a tone. Or a no that sounded like an order.

“Ferelden needs a Fereldan leading the Wardens.” 

“You are not just a warden,” Jael said gently.

“I’m an elf you mean? And that counts for something? Excuses me from my duty? Means I can run off to frolic with the halla?” Alim kicked the glass and sent it spinning across the floor.

“It means you have a choice,” said Jael, trying to ignore Alim’s goads, “You do not have to spend what time you have left crawling through the Deep Roads with shem you can’t trust…”

“With shem YOU can’t trust,” said Alim, “And I had a choice Jael, I made it a year ago when I helped Jowan escape. You made yours when you decided to follow Duncan for a cure. I’m staying on the path my choice made for me.”

“You’re being petulant,” said Jael.

Alim smiled, remembering a comment made long ago. “No, I’m being bitter.” He sighed and ran a hand over his braid. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go drown that bitterness in some brandy.”

Jael stayed silent until Alim reached the door. “Goodbye Alim.”

“Goodbye Jael. Give my best to Zevran,”

He walked out leaving Jael alone. Except, Jael thought, the opposite was true.


End file.
